Chapter Three
Dawn snapped her eyes open and blinked a few times. Holy cow. What was she doing? If she had to write up an incident report later, she would have no idea where to start.
One second, I was getting ready to tell him to back off, and the next, we were nearly kissing.
She could practically hear the snickers of her fellow officers. A good thing there were no witnesses there on the side of the road this glorious day in West Maui.
Not that it had been a glorious day when it started. She’d been grumpy and off-kilter all morning, as she had been for the past few weeks. No matter how much tai chi or yoga she tried, she couldn’t settle down. Every morning, she set off on a punishing run, and every evening, she spent ages tidying her perfectly clean bungalow, adjusting the bookshelves so the spines lined up just right and fidgeting with picture frames that weren’t actually askew, compulsively seeking the order and control her soul craved.
Control that always went out the window whenever Hunter was concerned. She’d never been so frustrated or confused.
But when he got close — as close as just then — all her doubts and fears fled, and she was immersed in a radiant world of comfort and bliss. Every nerve in her body took flight like the butterfly that had just flitted past, and her whole body tingled with glee.
All the man had to do was blink those impossibly long eyelashes, and she was a goner. Her, the don’t-mess-with-me police officer who’d booked dozens of men twice her size, from heinous criminals to big, rowdy drunks and everything in between. Yet somehow, she got all dreamy-eyed and off-focus when it came to Hunter.
Hunter, the man she’d secretly loved for years.
Part of her had already fast-forwarded into the kiss, and it actually hurt to imagine what she had just missed. She could have relived the one kiss she and Hunter had once shared, years ago — the only kiss she’d ever given freely to a man. She could have felt the soft pillow of his lips over hers and wrapped her arms slowly around his bulk. She could have felt Hunter pull her in gently, as he had that one perfect moment more than a decade ago under their secret waterfall. They had been teenagers, but even then, she had felt so sure that Hunter was the one.
Except, of course, that he’d abruptly stopped seeing her after that, and he’d shipped out with the army as soon as he graduated from high school. But ever since Hunter had returned to Maui after so many years away, she’d dreamed of kissing him again. Yes, she, Dawn Meli, had actually dreamed of kissing a man instead of harboring nightmares of desperately fighting one off.
Forget that ever happened, she reminded herself. I can trust Hunter.
Can’t trust any man, a dark voice grumbled from the recesses of her mind.
The man part wasn’t what made her step back at that point, because Hunter wasn’t just a man. He had a secret, animal side capable of the most brutal acts. She’d seen the body count too recently to forget.
It all happened down at a secluded seaside property a few miles from Kihei. She’d responded to a report of strange noises and a fight — only to find Hunter and his friends standing amidst carnage like she’d never seen. There were bodies everywhere, and Dawn was about to demand an explanation when a huge wolf had barreled out of nowhere and leaped for her throat. She’d seen murder in the red shine of its eyes and the white flecks of foam on its huge fangs. She’d gotten one shot off, but the beast had barreled on. She thought she was a goner until another feral growl split the air. A bear — a huge grizzly with fur the exact shade of Hunter’s hair — caught the wolf and tore it to bits. Moments later, the bear hunched, moaned, and slowly transformed into a man. Hunter.
Hunter was a bear.
She’d almost called the incident in to police headquarters, but the beseeching look in Hunter’s eyes convinced her to hear him out. Well, she heard his friend Boone out because Hunter, as usual, had been at a loss for words.
Shifters, Boone had explained. We’re all shifters. The dead men are shifters, too, like that wolf that attacked you.
She might have dismissed his crazy claims had it not been for the dead wolf transforming to human form in front of her eyes.
I’m a wolf. Cruz is a tiger, Boone explained. And Hunter is a grizzly.
These aren’t the bad guys, Officer, the sole woman on the scene had said. Nina was her name. Please, let’s hear them out.
Dawn had heard them out. What choice did she have? And in the end, she’d gone against every vow she’d taken in law enforcement and decided not to call in the crime.
Why? Because she’d known Hunter as a kid. Because he and his friends exuded a sense of gruff honesty that spoke to something in her soul. Because how the hell would she ever explain what she’d seen? Hawaii had its share of shapeshifting tales — tales of men who could turn into sharks or women who turned into dragons and guarded clear mountain streams. But those were just stories, right?
Sure. Stories. Right.
Still, her heart had pleaded Hunter’s case, and the discreet investigation she’d carried out afterward indicated that the dead men all shared ruthlessly criminal pasts. In the end, she couldn’t help but think that justice had been served, if by unconventional means. So she’d laid the covered-up crime to rest and come to peace with her role in it. Well, mostly. But she couldn’t get over the shifter part. She couldn’t stop replaying the moment the bear transformed into Hunter — twisting, groaning, contorting…
But there they stood in the bright light of day, two tongue-tied humans filled with so much longing and pain.
Something stirred in the Ferrari, and she glanced in. It was just a sheet of paper, one of many that littered the back. Boone’s speeding tickets, no doubt. She fought the urge to reach in and tidy them up. Instead, she turned back to Hunter — Hunter, the bear — and backed away.
His face fell.
“Hunter,” she said, forcing herself to step closer again.
His eyes hit the ground, and his hands burrowed deeper into his pockets.
“Please, Hunter. Look at me,” she whispered.
Slowly, he tipped his chin to meet her gaze. A world of pain and regret swirled in his chocolate brown eyes.
“I’d never hurt you, Dawn. If nothing else, please believe that.”
Men made lots of promises. But Hunter, she believed.
“I know,” she whispered. “It’s just…just…” Now she was the one struggling for words. The zaps of electricity she’d always felt around Hunter were stronger than ever. A magnetic pull, an urge to sidle closer and let their bodies brush. How could she explain how strongly she was drawn to him — and how afraid she was of losing control?
“You’ve saved me two times now,” she murmured. The first time was back in high school when… She halted the thought quickly. “And I appreciate it. More than I can say. But I’m still trying to swallow the bear part.”
There, she’d said it. But Hunter looked glummer than ever, and it occurred to her what it must be like for him. As a person of mixed heritage, she’d endured a few racial slurs as a kid, though she’d come to embrace who she was.
Had Hunter? He couldn’t help who he was, right?
But still — a bear?
She tried softening the unintended insult. “I mean, I should have guessed.”
Hunter’s thick eyebrows jumped up, and she couldn’t hold back a tiny smile. She waved at him. “The size fits.”
His face fell again, and she tapped him on the arm. “Hey. It’s true. Bears are kind of quiet, too. Right?”
He nodded but didn’t brighten one bit. And really, what was she trying to say? That she didn’t mind him turning into a bear? He’d scared the hell out of her. Worse, he’d confirmed her theory that most men had a hidden, caveman side capable of terrible violence and awful deeds. Men waged wars and committed heinous crimes. Men raped and killed. Some even beat the people they professed to love. She’d gone into law to fight that kind of crime, then decided the police force was a better way to wage her own personal crusade.
Of course, there were decent men, too. But if Hunter could turn into a coldhearted killer, anyone could.
She stepped back again. Whatever she felt for Hunter, she couldn’t give in to the pull. The heart had a way of tricking the mind, and she had to be vigilant. She had to remember who she was, too — an officer of the law. She’d already covered up a crime for Hunter’s sake. If there was further trouble, she might have to report the man she loved, despite the consequences it could bring for him and his kind.
No, it was definitely better to stay single, clear-headed, and away from this man.
“I guess what I’m saying is, I just need some space. Okay?”
Hunter opened his mouth to say something, but the radio in her squad car squawked. “Unit 239, Unit 239. Come in, over.”
She and Hunter stood staring at each other for another long minute before she whispered, “I have to go.”
She didn’t move, though, and the radio came on again. “Unit 239. Come in, over.”
If it wasn’t for Boone sauntering back down the trail, as cheerful as can be — and not limping in the slightest — she might have stayed rooted in place all day. There was so much more she needed to say. So much she needed Hunter to explain. But she couldn’t — wouldn’t — allow herself to go down that road.
She grabbed the handset. “Unit 239, over.”
Hunter gave one last sad shake of the head and slid back into the Ferrari. When Boone revved the engine and peeled onto the highway with a squeal of the tires, Dawn kept her eye on the vehicle. Well, she kept an eye on Hunter. As he rushed out of sight — with Boone en route to breaking the speed limit yet again — something deep inside her ached, the way it always did when she and Hunter parted ways.
“The sergeant wants you back at headquarters for a special assignment, over.”
Only part of Dawn’s mind wondered what she was being reassigned to. The rest was still considering Hunter. What was it about him that pulled on her so? Did bear shifters have extra strong hormones or something?
“Unit 239, do you copy?” the dispatcher repeated a second later.
“Copy,” Dawn sighed, watching Hunter disappear around the turn.